


A Love Built On Lies

by ampersand_235



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5722918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ampersand_235/pseuds/ampersand_235
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor is an ex-military police officer who just came across some interesting information about his girlfriend Alayne. Is she who she says she is? Sandor's not sure, but he knows he'll do anything to keep her safe.</p><p>Sexually explicit. Porn with (some) plot. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While it's written in third-person around Sandor, I switch between their POVs pretty fluidly (mostly during sex scenes). Let me know in the comments if it's confusing, and I'll make changes. Other comments are welcome too! Happy reading!
> 
> I've changed up the first chapter since my original posting. This might end up being a *tiny* bit longer than I originally planned, but no promises.

“What’s wrong?” The voice startled him. While he hadn’t forgotten she was there, he he had forgotten that she might notice his distant behavior… or speak. How long had he been lost in thought? He looked down to see that her plate and wine glass were both empty. He’d barely touched his food. _Damnit…_

“Nothing, just… just work,” he recovered as best he could. But she wasn’t buying it. Sandor watched her blue eyes shift from concerned to suspicious. _Maybe I should just ask her._ But he didn’t. He let the silence stretch on, even after she raised an eyebrow. _Does she dye her eyebrows?_

“Sandor–”

“Really, it’s nothing important. Just a case I’m stuck on,” He felt guilty for lying to her; he’d always prided himself on his honesty. _It’s only until you find out more. For her safety._ It was enough to justify anything to himself. He cared about nothing more than her safety. And luckily enough, she seemed soothed enough by his lie, though it wouldn’t hurt to throw her off just a little more. “And you know… Jaime,” he finished. He watched as guilt blanched her cheeks.

“I–I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Of course you don’t want to talk about it. … I know you feel responsible.” She reached for his hand across the table. He’ll never get over how small hers looks in his. He let his fingers close around hers.

“It’s okay, little bird.”

“I guess I thought, well, I thought you were doing better after we got to visit him.” 

“I was,” Sandor swallowed, “but he… was my partner. Work isn’t the same without him.” At least that was honest.

“Oh Sandor, I know, but,” she got up, walking around the table to slide in front of him, still holding his hand, all concern and understanding now. “Jaime is going to be fine. It’s going to be different, but the doctors have high hopes he’ll regain use of most of his arm and shoulder, and the department is going to pay for a prosthetic.”

“You can’t be an officer without a shooting arm, little bird.”

“I know,” she whispered sympathetically. “I’m sorry.” The silence that followed filled him with both stress and relief. The thoughts in his head were cloudy and tumbled. She felt unreachable. His little bird. But he needed more time to figure it all out.

“I just have to stop thinking about it,” he finished, hoping it would buy him slack in the future if he kept acting distant. He moved to get up, but she stopped him with a light hand on his chest.

“Um, maybe I could help… distract you?” He looked into her eyes, big blue beautiful eyes, and was almost blinded by the care in them, the concern, the trust. _Fucking hells,_ he shouldn’t be lying to her… then again, _she could be lying to you._ He looked down quickly, contemplating if he should come clean, but she misread his hesitation. With a rose blush coloring her chest and cheeks, she blurted out,

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry. Of course you’re not in the mood. What was I – I might be a little tipsy… no, I’m just an idiot. I’m–I’m sorry.” She buried her face in her hands. Sandor chuckled at her embarrassment, rolling his eyes as a smile pulled at his lips. _I don’t deserve her… or her sweetness._ Pushing his chair back a little, he pulled her to straddle his lap and peeled her hands gently from her perfect face, as she giggled and peeked through her fingers at his darkening gray eyes.

“Oh no, Alayne. You know I’d love any distraction you had to offer...” He couldn’t help it if he sounded just a little bit wicked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor gets a surprise when he comes home from work. And he was starting to think he didn't like surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a little long so I'm splitting them up. You'll have the third chapter soon!

Chapter 2

Sandor pulled her hands from her face and draped her arms over his shoulders before using his to pull her closer. Sansa immediately responded, pressing her lips to his a little more passionately than she’d intended, still getting over her embarrassment and grateful that he hadn’t rejected her attempt at comforting him.

_How could I have been so insensitive and inappropriate? He’s upset and guilty over his friend’s near-fatal accident and you offer him – Gods, you’re lucky he always wants you so badly, or you would’ve looked like such a –_ Mmmnnh! _such a –_ Her own whimpers teased her from her stream of consciousness when he pulled away from her kiss and pressed an open mouth to the pulse at her neck, sucking gently. He felt so good! He always felt so good. _Focus, Sansa! You’re supposed to be distracting him!_

“Sto–Stop!” Gasping, she pulled away, gathering herself.

He raised an eyebrow, looking concerned. He always did, her sweet Sandor, “You okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m–I’m fine,” she let her breathing slow a little. “It’s just, I’m supposed to be distracting you, remember?”

“I’m plenty fucking distracted, little bird, trust me.” She moaned when he dug his fingers into her hips and ground her against him. “Or can’t you tell?” She could feel his hardness through his jeans, and his wet kiss when it returned to suck on her neck.

“But, but I want to,” she tried to fight it but she was breathless again. Another soft moan escaped her lips, and Sandor grinned.

“We’ll take turns, okay? But right now,” his voiced darkened in her ear, “I’ll have you my way.” _Nnnghhh,_ she loved when he talked like that.

“Okay,” a breathless whisper, but he must have heard it because he grabbed her behind the neck and pressed his mouth to hers again, hard. It was a searing kiss. She tensed and clenched her legs around him against a gush of wetness there, moaning into his mouth. It had taken him awhile to stop being hesitant around her physically, probably because of the scars he discovered on her back, but he learned eventually that she loved a little roughness in the bedroom, and he’d learned it well.

Sandor took a fist of her silky chestnut hair in one large hand to pull her mouth from his, kissing down her jaw. His other hand moved slowly from the small of her back to cup her perfect ass. He was quickly reminded that she was wearing what she called a “sundress,” though he never understood what exactly made it sunny. All he knew was that it was blue like her eyes, she looked great in it, and, well, it was really fucking fun to fuck her while she was wore it.

He squeezed one shapely ass cheek once before sliding his hand down her thigh to the hem and pushing it up, letting it bunch where her long legs met the rest of her. _She must be wet already. I can smell her. Fucking hells!_ She smelled so good! 

He moved his fingers to touch her sweet cunt through her panties and was met with fabric so soaked-through with her desire, he almost lost control. She whimpered into the air, movement restrained by the grip of his fist in her hair, still bearing her perfect little throat to him. _I could fuck her right now,_ he thought as he gently pushed up against her slit through the fabric, watched her swallow and squirm. He grinned. _But I want her to beg for it._

Sansa couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed when he removed his hand from between her legs. She knew he felt how wet she was. She knew how badly he wanted her; she could feel it. He’d growled low when he’d pressed his fingers to her womanhood, a rumble she felt course through her, like electricity through water. She’d thought he was going to rip her panties from her body and make love to her right there! And, well, while she had wanted him to, so desperately in fact that she’d almost begged him, she hadn’t gotten her turn to “distract” him yet, and she’d promised herself she would.

She felt his hand trail up her side from her hip, to her waist, his thumb only lingering a few seconds on her breast before continuing up to stroke her collarbone. She shuddered. She felt him tug gently on her hair, still fisted in his hand, and ground down against his erection as he brought her mouth to his again. When he released his hold on her head, she threw herself into their kiss, tightening her arms around his neck. She wanted to devour him. She wanted to be devoured by him. She felt his fingers, slowly pulling the skinny straps of her dress and bra off her shoulders. She released her hold on him briefly to help him out, shrugging the garments from her body faster than he could without ripping them. She closed her arms around him again and deepened their kiss, moaning when he pushed her dress to her waist and reached around to unhook her bra. She almost giggled when she felt it fall from her breasts and drop to the floor. _He’s gotten awfully good at that._

When Sandor traced his thumbs under the swell of her breasts, she couldn’t help but break their kiss. With her head thrown back she moaned for him.

“You like that, huh, little bird?” She just barely managed to nod and whimper in approval; she was too busy grinding herself against his lap. He moved his thumbs in circles around her nipples, circles that tightened until she shuddered in his lap and moaned again. She didn’t think it could feel better than that until he flicked his thumb over her hardened peaks.

Her hands flew to the back of his head as she ground against him again, gasping and pulling at his hair. She briefly worried she was hurting him, but when she looked up, the eyes that bore into hers were dark, and dangerous, and fierce with desire. He looked like he barely felt the roughness in her fingers. He looked like an animal, and she loved it. She felt hunted. He started to grin. _Why is he… Oh!_ He pinched her nipples between his thumb and index finger and she almost screamed in pleasure. He tugged gently at her nipples as she convulsed in his lap.

“That’s my girl,” he breathed against her shoulder, pressing a kiss there. “I want you so bad, little bird.”

“I-I want you too,” Sansa barely managed to get her words out.

“Oh yeah? Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come for you! I want you to fuck me until I scream your name! Please, Sandor, please!” She was almost crying she needed him so badly.

Sansa felt strong hands under her thighs and almost instantly she on the table with Sandor leaning over her. After he swiped their dishes aside, she felt the lace edging of her underwear snap as he ripped them from her, and she reached to undo his belt and jeans as he thread his fingers through her hair, sucking on the delicate skin of her neck above the collarbone. When she finally released his cock and pumped his hard cock between her fingers, he growled and sucked harder, marking her as his and letting his teeth graze her flesh as he pulled away.

With a strong hand on her chest, Sandor pressed her down onto the table. He grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge, hooking one long leg over his shoulder. He looked at her head thrown back in anticipation, her mouth open and panting, her eyes, well they were closed right now, but he’d make her look at him when she came. He shifted his attention to her entrance, her beautiful, tight, pink pussy. She was dripping with desire. He touched his thumb to the inside of her thigh where her wetness had spread and hummed as he pressed it into her skin gently.

“Do you know how wet you are, little bird?” A smile pulled at his lips when she whimpered.

“Yes.” Sandor pressed his thumb into the wetness at her entrance and she jumped a little.

“And how did you get so wet?” He moved his thumb lightly across her clit. By the sounds she made, he didn’t have to guess if she liked it.

“You, Sandor. You do this to me. I want you so bad.” He moved his thumb in little circles as she writhed on the table before him. He watched her shudder and squirm, he listened to her moans get louder as she lost control. After a few minutes he couldn’t take it anymore, needed to feel her warm cunt around his cock. She almost came when he pushed the tip in, he could tell from the way he felt her fingers dig into his arms, how her back arched off the table. He barely managed the control he needed to pull out of her sweet warmth again.

“Not yet, little bird. You’ll wait until I tell you to come for me, understand?” Sansa nodded and gripped the side of the table like she wanted to break it. He stilled his thumb. “I didn’t hear you, little bird.”

“Yes, YES! I understand! … oh gods!” Her breath hitched and she moaned as he renewed his ministrations.

Sandor watched as he pushed into her again, just a little. He loved watching her like this. He worshipped her, mesmerized by the way she welcomed him, how the entrance of her tight pussy stretched around his thick cock; he worshipped the muscles in her legs and abdomen that contracted and spasmed, her breasts, her moans; these were his gods. He did it again and again, pumped just the tip of himself into her, her beautiful cunt stretching and begging just for him. When he thought neither of them would make it much longer, he quickened the movements of his thumb and slowly pushed his cock further into her hot cunt.

“Oh gods, Sandor! Oh gods, I can’t wait any longer! Please baby, fuck me and let me come!” Her voice would be hoarse tomorrow.

“Okay, little bird, look me in the eyes… and come for me.”

Sandor almost came when she looked up; her eyes were deep blue, lusty, and desperate for him. He felt her orgasm before he heard it. Her walls contracted around him, and she threw her head back again as he pounded deeply into her soft, wet heat. She scream-sobbed his name, again and again, his sweet little bird. He loved pleasuring her like this, loved fucking her until she forgot who she was, loved making her come and moan and scream his name. There wasn’t a neighbor left in their apartment building that didn’t know it, his name, or how well and how often she got thoroughly, properly fucked. She’d be mortified to know it, but he loved this poorly kept secret. There was nothing that gave him more pride than knowing he could do this for her, this perfect woman who deserved far more than he could ever offer.

When her orgasm subsided and she could think again, Sansa felt her back being lifted from the table. She felt his lips press hard to her mouth, his tongue desperate for an invitation, begging for admittance. She wrapped her arms around his muscled neck, collapsing against him, and opened her lips. She felt his fingers dig into her thighs and ass, his tongue against hers, demanding and strong. She couldn’t help the moans she poured into his mouth...

And that’s how he fucked her, hard and fast, until he came with a hoarse groan and pumped his seed deep into her hot, happy, cock-filled cunt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night he lay in bed behind Alayne’s sleeping form, an arm draped over her middle, protective as always. He smiled in the dark, remembering her pout upon realizing she hadn’t gotten her turn to distract him. He’d laughed at her when she accused him of breaking his promise. Tried to console her even though it was ridiculous…

“Alayne, were you there? What could “distracted” possibly mean to you if not that? There wasn’t a single fucking thought in my head that wasn’t about you!” He smirked when she rolled her eyes. “But hey, if you’re not satisfied with that... all I can do is promise to behave next time.” Alayne just sighed. That probably would’ve been the end of that if he hadn’t started laughing.

“What?” Her glare was half-hearted.

“Sorry, little bird. It’s just… you look ridiculous.”

“Excuse me?” She looked down, her sundress was crumpled and bunched around her hips like a tutu, and she was otherwise naked. Pink marks covered her skin from their love-making, and she was holding herself up next to the table with shaking arms because her legs still felt like jello, their combined juices trickling down them. She burst into giggles.

“Oh my gods, I do.” She sank to her elbows on the table, still laughing.

“Yeah, but you know, it’s… it’s actually pretty hot. In a shaky-newborn-fawn-legs kind of way.” He’d sidled up next to her, pulling her up and into a playful kiss. Why should she need the table to hold her up when she’s got him?

“Oh shut up!” She swatted at him, but he’d dodged and squatted to lift her up and throw her over his shoulder. She squealed. 

“Hey! Put me down!”

“No way, little fawn. You’re filthy and going straight to the shower.” As he turned toward the hallway that led to their bedroom and the bathroom, she noticed her ruined lace underwear on the floor.

“Darn you! I just bought those panties!” And she reached down and smacked him soundly on the bottom, realizing her mistake a little too late. Sandor’s large palm moved to gently rub her firm, naked ass. “Wait, wait!” Sansa wiggled in his arms. He didn’t stop walking.

“What was that, little bird? Was that a… complaint? Are you saying it wasn’t worth it?”

“No, no, no, no, no–“ She giggled and squirmed harder, but as she knew, he was as strong as he looked.

“Are you telling me you didn’t love getting fucked like that?” He patted her ass with his open palm.

“No, no, I loved it! I loved it!”

“I don’t know… it doesn’t sound like it.” He patted her a little harder.

“Don’t you dare! You dog, I’ll–”

“Ruff!” Sansa jumped when he spanked her, not that it actually hurt, and she bucked in his arms, squealing and giggling again, trying to kick him. Her foot just barely met the hallway wall as he howled his victory. 

“What was that, little bird?” He asked, rubbing his hand in a small circle on her bottom, a clear message she had not yet neutralized this particular threat.

“I loved how you fuck me. I always do. I love what your hands do to me and your mouth and your cock and-” She was cut-off when he hefted her off his shoulder and planted her outside the bathroom door.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Bad dog!” She reached to give him a little smack on the nose; he let her, smirking. Sandor pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then tilted her chin up in his hand so he could look into her eyes, “I’ll buy you new underwear, little bird. You can have anything you want.” She smiled back.

“Anything?”

“Anything.” He turned to go to the kitchen to clean up their mess. Also… he never really got to eat his dinner.

“I want a cat!” She called after him. He huffed a laugh.

“Anything but that!”

 

… Sandor smiled and tightened his arm around her sleeping form. He pressed a light kiss just behind her ear. “I love you,” he whispered to her, something he had yet to say to her in the light of day. _I love you, Alayne Stone, no matter who you are or what you’re running from._


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa Stark.

_Sansa Stark. Sansa Stark. Sansa Stark. No. No fucking way._

Sandor stood outside their apartment, resting his head against the door. _You can’t go in there and face her, you paranoid psycho! You spent the last 48 hours investigating your girlfriend like one of your criminals... Gods, she’s gonna leave your crazy ass if you tell her._ Even if he were right, would she forgive this kind of violation of her privacy? Of her trust? He could already imagine the confusion and pain etched onto her pretty face ... _And it’ll be worse if you’re wrong._

But he wasn’t wrong, and he knew it. From everything he’d learned in the last two days, it wasn’t even in question. The woman he’d been fucking for two years, and loving for longer than that if he was honest with himself, was Sansa Stark. SANSA FUCKING STARK, the young heiress who went missing years ago under suspicious circumstances and was presumed dead.

He’d seen those news reports. “Orphan heiress disappears…” “Mysterious circumstances…” “Foul-play?...” A few years later there had been more, some confirmation that some sick friend of her mother had killed her, but he’d barely paid attention to all that. Another sad ending to another sad story, and Sandor had had plenty of his own cases to worry about.

But when a suspicious man slithered into the precinct two days ago, looking for Jaime and a bad surveillance photo of Alayne in his breast pocket, everything changed. Now he had a partner in the hospital and rising dread in his gut.

In the last 48 hours he’d read everything he could find on the Stark girl’s disappearance. Every newspaper article, every exaggerated tabloid, every Wikipedia entry he could find. He scoured pages on her supposed guardians, the Baratheon-Lannisters; sickening hypotheses on Catelyn Stark’s old friend, a man named Petyr Baelish, who was later convicted and executed for the Stark girl’s kidnapping and murder with help from evidence brought forward by the Lannister family long after the girl’s disappearance; and anything at all he could find on the Stark family itself.

He found a picture of Sansa Stark at age 9, the most recent photograph the police and media could get their hands on the time, and while Alayne did look related to the little girl, she looked different enough that he could’ve fooled himself and said it was coincidence. It was when he saw the photo of Catelyn Stark, the girl’s late mother and almost a spitting image of his little bird, that he knew Alayne Stone was the missing Stark girl.

And it didn’t take long after realizing who Alayne was to figure out that she was still in serious danger. She’d mentioned an uncle once. An uncle who got her out of foster care after her parents died and took care of her for a few years. She’d set out on her own eventually, and her uncle died unexpectedly just a few years later… Had that been Baelish? Alayne said his death had been an accident and implied it would have killed her too if she hadn’t run away before then. Had... had she been referring to the Lannisters? Sandor was a good detective. How could he have missed all this?

_You didn’t... Not completely._ He suddenly remembered feeling suspicious when she’d told him about her childhood… why hadn’t he questioned her further? _Because you were afraid that your police work was messing with your personal life, and… and she made you happy,_ he reasoned with himself. But there was something else. _The scars._ Sure, the story seemed off, but since he had no reason to suspect his girlfriend was a kidnapped, missing heiress, he’d needed no more than the ugly scars that marked her perfect skin to explain why she might not be telling him the whole story. 

Sandor remembered the day well now, how she’d told him about her abusive foster family and he’d immediately thought of the scars. That night he’d gotten drunk for the first time in years and started a fight downtown. Almost lost his job. It was in department-mandated therapy that he’d realized he was in love with her, the waitress who smiled at him freely and didn’t seem to notice his ruined face, the pretty girl who let him buy her drinks when her shift ended and let him take her out to coffee on weekend mornings, the angel who kissed him on her doorstep one night when he walked her home from work, and the vixen in a tiny black dress who, a few months later and his girlfriend for true, dragged him up to her shitty, studio apartment and fucked him like he was the last man on Earth, with silvery stilettos digging into his back and the taste of champagne he could barely afford on her lips.

The Elder Brother convinced him that whatever had happened to Alayne in childhood was her past to reveal or hide, discuss or forget, just like the childhood horrors inflicted upon him by his brother. No matter how much Sandor wanted to know what she’d suffered and by whose hand, no matter how much he wanted to make it right, if he truly cared for this woman, loved this woman like he believed he might, he would respect her judgment and her choices, and let her keep her past in the past.

Sandor struggled over this advice for weeks. He questioned it every time he saw her scars when her shirt rode up as she curled into him on the couch, every time he felt them under his palms as she gave herself to him, every time he traced them with the pad of his thumb after she’d fallen asleep in his bed. He cursed the Elder Brother, himself, and the world for the pain it brought him, for the pain he suspected these marks had brought her. But when Sandor finally accepted the Elder Brother was right, he made a decision of his own: he couldn’t save his little bird from her past, but he could protect her in the future. He could protect her now. A few days later he asked her to move in with him, and he’d been by her side ever since.

_And that’s what you have to do now. PROTECT HER, your little bird, no matter what her real name is. It’s a crazy plan, but it’s the best you got, and they’re coming for her._ He was sure they were: The Lannisters, a powerful crime family that had married into a powerful political one. Sandor was sure it was them his little bird had been rescued from, sure it was them who killed that “uncle” of hers.

They’d wanted her money and her name, a defenseless little orphaned girl, and who knows what these sick people had done to secure control of her… who knows what they had done to her to keep it. What would they do now if they got their hands on her, to punish their disobedient, runaway pawn? _They’ll do nothing, he swore to himself. Nothing because they’ll never get the chance. She’s mine now, as long as she wants me, and they can’t have her._

Chiming from his phone brought him back to the present.

LB: **Hey baby! Are you coming home soon? I feel bad that they’re making you guys work so much on that big case, so I have a little surprise for you ;)**

He typed a quick response: **Just got in. Be up in a sec.** And chucked to himself when she sent back a string of “ <3”s. She’d told him they were supposed to be hearts once, but he didn’t really see it.

Sandor put his phone in his pocket, took a few more deep breaths, rolled his shoulders a few times, and opened the door to their apartment.

It… it smelled amazing! What had she done this time? Was that… roast chicken? He hung up his jacket and gun before walking into the kitchen. It mysteriously lacked his little bird.

“Alayne?”

“One sec!” He heard her voice coming from their bedroom. When he peeked down the hallway, the door was shut. He started walking towards it. “No! Don’t come in!” He turned back toward the kitchen, chuckling.

“Alright, alright!” Wow, that smell! It was coming from the oven. “You know babe,” he added as he peeked in the oven, “with all this secrecy, I’d almost think someone was in there with you...” There was a brief moment of silence. He could almost see her freeze doing whatever she was doing… 5… 4… 3… 2… The door opened and she came flying down the hallway.

“What’s wrong with you?! How could you ever think something–”

“If I didn’t know any better!” His hands went up defensively, but he was trying not to laugh. “I’d almost think someone were in there with you _if I didn’t know any better!_ Babe, I was joking!” Alayne crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, now you ruined the surprise!” It took Sandor a second to register what she was talking about, and when he did, he felt himself go hard, instantly.


End file.
